January 12

A brightening morning sky and ironically, calming winds wake
me about 5am. Hurriedly, I unzip the tent for a peak outside: it’s a blue sky,
far above. I shake Ron awake and holler to Alfred, ‘lets go!’…we rush to climb
up to the base of the Torres granite spires and see them lit by early rays of
sun. This ‘kodak’ moment frequently appears on promotional material of the
park, spires pink or gold against the blush of a clear dawn sky. It’s 45
minutes of heavy breathing as we scramble 400m up (although only .8 km distance
according to the map) the rock strewn moraine to a view point. Looking east,
the morning sky rims clouds fire red with orange crusts.

The cold wind blows but with no vegetation to rustle leaves,
its deathly quiet. We are alone except for 3 figures in the far distance…it feels
like the roof of the world. Now, I can appreciate the thrill peak baggers get
upon reaching the summit – the outside world ceases to exist, its only you
wrapped by the elements. Unearthly mists obscure peaks, instead, golden light
washes their bases in a pale light, and a milky gray glacial lake lays calm at
their feet. The contrast in rock textures is exaggerated by light and shadows:
the Torres spires smooth and silky, their shoulders rumpled, their feet scree.
We sit in silence, transfixed by the moment.

The Torres views are awe inspiring: the over whelming height, the crushing
weight of their immensity bears down, squashing me to humbleness. It a more
humane and sublime view across the Valle Ascencio: condors circle overhead,
stretching their wings in the dawn warmth. Subtle grays blend with shapes, a
monochromatic palette that calms a sun burnt retina. Time straddles two
dimensions, present and past. Hikers have left offerings in the form of small
stones on a table rock. I have no urge to do the same, instead steal the moment
on celluloid, satisfying my urge of possession.

My stomach rumbles, and I start to shiver. The moment has
passed and its time to return to camp. The descent is slow, legs burn, braking
all the way down. A tiny stream of water along the trail, nourishes bright
yellow daisies, pink heathers, feathery grasses and lush moss, the only
greenery at this elevation. As we descend, the trees come up to meet us. I
linger, savouring feelings of calm and peace until interrupted by wind driven
snow pellets that sting my eyes.

Back at camp, we breakfast, pack and start the walk back,
retracing our steps of only yesterday. It was 2.5 hrs up but today, the return
descent takes only 90 minutes down to Albergo Chileno. First, another morning
coffee then a beer to celebrate the joyous start of the day. Hordes of tourists
have descended on mass, swarming the trail, on foot and horse back. We’re glad
to clear out, feeling privileged to have had sunrise to ourselves.

Valle Ascencio opens wide, and a hot wind greets us at a
place I nick named yesterday ‘Windy Corners’ (later I find out it has been
officially named “Paso de los
vientos (pass of the winds)”. We struggle to maintain our footing on the
gravel path as wind gusts shove us to and fro. The indented shores of
blue-green Lago Nordenskjold come into view. Happily, we carry on. Blue skies,
full bellies and a down hill slope contribute to the steady pace as the day
will be long.

It’s mid afternoon, the trail now parallels the north shore
of Lago Nordenskjold…its relatively level and my toes are thankful after that
last 24 hours of up and down. The greens in the valley delight the eye after
the simple colours of higher elevations. Mounds of yellow flowers like huge
pincushions abut the trail. White peaks are outlined by blue skies.

But as the hours pass, I grow weary despite the stunning
jewel waters and ever changing pattern of cloud cover. The four hours to Los
Cuernos campground stretch to never ending, my tongue grows thick from the dry
air.

Lake Nordenskjold surrounded by rolling bare slopes. The
trail climbs up and down these little knolls which keep the feet alert. Note
how the tree has been bent by the prevailing westerly winds.

Looking west along Lake Nordenskjold. Ever changing sky is
typical for spring weather. Undulating land with varied vegetation kept me
entertained when the sky didn’t.

Stunning sculpted slopes of Cuernos del Paine (central:
2600m/8530 ft and east towers: 7218 ft) are the result of glaciation on
millions of year old upthrust rock.

Finally, after 7 hours, we reach Camping Los Cuernos on the
north shore of Lago Nordenskjold. The camp site is far from ideal, campers
jostle for level areas amongst the lenga trees to avoid rocks that have emerged
from the earth. We purchase a bottle of wine from the Albergue – a fringe
benefit of the location. Warm coats and fleece hats are necessary in the shade
of the tree as the strong winds cool our tired bodies. It’s an early night
after a memorable day of stupendous hiking, views and weather.